


Booty Shorts

by vivianne_leigh



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Essentially Whirl tries to hit on you with the help of short shorts, Other, Whirl Being Whirl, early morning shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:19:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9621959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivianne_leigh/pseuds/vivianne_leigh
Summary: You’re disturbed at far, far too early in the morning by a crash at your door.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rockinmuffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockinmuffin/gifts).



You’re disturbed at far, _far_ too early in the morning by a crash at your door.

The sound is so random and sudden you think you might be dreaming, so you roll over in your covers and curl up tight in the warmth, already sinking back into unconsciousness. You’ve just gotten comfortable again when another thundering BOOM jolts you fully awake, rattling the doors of your quarters. You try to kick yourself free of the cocoon of sheets, but the fabric has snagged both ankles and you half-slide, half-flop to the ground gracelessly. The room is a smear of colors as you fight to escape, finally prying the covers off your face as the noise rises to near-constant levels.

Bullshit tolerance already dangerously low, you haul yourself upright and stagger towards the door, fumbling for a few seconds before managing to find the door controls. Rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes and mustering up your resolve, you flick the little switch to 'on' and are immediately blinded by a single glowing optic. _Whirl_.

_God, no._

You don’t even try to escape- instead you run your hands through your ruffled hair and say, flatly, “What.”

“Oh, nothing.” Whirl says, sounding casual despite almost smashing your door down at 3 AM.

“Nothing?” You echo, incredibly skeptical.

“No.”

You take a step back, confused by his feigned casualness. He follows the motion immediately, the light in his eye tracking your bare feet across the floor. The silence that follows quickly turns awkward; the spotlight brightness of his stare slowly is but surely making you sweat.

“So…” you start, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “I can just go back to sleep then?”

Before you can close the battered doors again, his claw shoots out and presses against the frame, effectively pinning them open.  

“Sleep?” He asks, sounding genuinely offended. Ignoring your sounds of protest, he reaches into your quarters and pulls you out, so fast you can hear air whistling in your ears. Then he unceremoniously plops you on the floor; your stomach flips at the motion but you manage to shake it off. “Why would you wanna sleep when I’m around?” Without waiting for your response, he gestures to himself and he’s-

He’s-

He’s wearing _shorts_.

As if that wasn’t surreal enough, you realize they’re _booty shorts_. Bright red with white stripes- something straight out of a slutty cheerleaders’ closet. Seeing your reaction, his wiggles his hips at you, sending the drawstrings of the shorts spinning.

“Any thoughts?” Ignoring your internal struggle, he twists into a pose; it’s awkward at best, like a flamingo in lingerie, but he wiggles his shoulders expectantly. “Getting any… ideas?” His optic dims dramatically on the last word, and _oh, **god** he’s definitely flirting with you_. If you’re lucky, your heart will stop and you won’t have to deal with this.

Before you can choke out a reply, however, he perks up and waves a claw at you. “Hold that thought, fleshie- I almost forgot the best part.” With that, he spins on his pedes and cocks his hip, claw coming to rest on his narrow waist. You’re at a loss until you see the small, yet blocky white text against the red fabric.

‘ **Are U Nasty**?’ Whirls’ aft asks you. Vaguely, you can hear him snicker.

_Hell is empty,_ you think to yourself, watching the letters move as Whirl squirms impatiently. _And all the devils are here._

“Whirl?” you say, still unable to tear your eyes off the red and white disaster he’s presenting you with. “Can you, uhm, hold that pose?”

“Sure can,” he replies, throwing an arm out like a supermodel. “Enjoying the view?”

Not bothering to reply, you turn and walk away.

**Author's Note:**

> A quick fic inspired by @rocksinmuffin‘s tags and @chaoticcompositions fanart.


End file.
